


217 - Sad Mini Fic About Things That Could Have Been

by storiesaboutvan



Category: Catfish and the Bottlemen (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Mini Fic, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 18:05:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17391098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storiesaboutvan/pseuds/storiesaboutvan
Summary: Filling the prompt “Catching up with Van a few years after having broken up with him (maybe in The Balcony era??) starting with him saying "we were just kids, huh?” Maybe seeing the way he has changed (from wearing girl sweaters and long hair to wearing white shirts and coats and having short hair and releasing The Ride) Maybe the scenario could be a balcony in NYC, almost evening, looking at him smoking and noticing the way he has matured in many ways. Talking about things that have been going on and their feels"





	217 - Sad Mini Fic About Things That Could Have Been

"What are you doin' here anyway? Thought you hated New York?" 

You looked across the small table at Van. The sun was setting behind him, lighting the city skyline in orange and pink hues. Shadows were beginning to be cast across the landscape. With the brightness behind him, Van's face was hidden, but even so, you could see all the ways he'd changed. He exhaled out into the air and looked back at you.

"It's not all bad, I guess. Used to hate a lot of things that I don't anymore," you replied.

"Like me,"

"I never hated you, Van,"

"Coulda fooled me… Wouldn't 'ave blamed you but," he said, a small smile playing on his lips for only a second.

You were in New York visiting a friend, a mutual friend. Emily warned you Van was in the city too, but with a population of over 8.5 million, what were the odds of bumping into your ex? Apparently, very high. He'd found you in a record store and you let him lead you back to his hotel balcony.

Sitting at the table he caught you up on everything that had happened in the years apart. He still spoke quickly and excitedly, with his hands waving through the air. He was different though. He thought through his sentences more than he used to. His vocabulary had grown and less localised slang was used. Seemed to swear less too, but maybe he was just on his best behaviour.

"I didn't hate you. Maybe I thought I did; I don't know. We were just kids,"

"Yeah… Guess we felt everythin' in extremes," he agreed, nodding his head and tapping his smoke into an expensive ashtray.

"You seem like you still do."

The small smile again and he shrugged. Van was more placid and calm, but the burning love and fight were still clear in him. He'd never change in that regard. It didn't matter how much of his fluffy hair he cut off, how much the shape of his face changed to look all grown up, he'd still be painfully passionate if nothing else. 

With the last piece of daylight, you noted the new freckles on his nose. You used to know exactly how many he had, but not anymore. There was a small scar on the side of his face, along his jawline. When did that happen? What happened? If you were there, would it have played out the same?

"So, you still workin' for Able?"

"Yeah. I manage the place now. Still love it," you replied.

"Good. That's good. Feel like life would be horrible if you hated your job,"

"Yeah. It would. We both got lucky, I guess. You remember Lana? The one that had a baby? The kid is like, seven or something now. Catfish is his favourite band. She hates it," you told him. He laughed.

"Good to know we can still stir up trouble even when we ain't there,"

"Mmm. Course you can. It's literally your speciality. And, I saw Em yesterday. You gonna see her while you're here?"

"Yeah. Always do. She's a good listener. Always, like, feel all straight headed after talkin' to her, you know what I mean?"

"Yep. So… Yeah. Everything is good. How's Sir Bernard and Mary?"

Van smiled wide at the mention of his parents. He showed you photos of the house he'd bought them. People had always thought the 'jacuzzi for me ma' thing was a joke, but it wasn't. Now, Mary had a huge spa and couldn't be happier.

"Awwww! I'm glad they're happy," you said, handing his phone back after looking at the photos a second time.

"Same,"

"And, you are too, yeah? No rock star angst or anything like that?"

He paused for only a second. "You know me, Y/N. Don't think like that. Gotta be grateful for everythin' I have,"

"Yeah, but it doesn't mean you have to be like… completely happy. You don't have everything you wanted yet, right?"

It went unsaid, but Van knew what you meant. The wife. The baby. The domestic bliss. Yeah, Catfish was letting him travel the globe and meet fantastic people and buy anything for his parents, but it was also the thing stopping him from being the perfect father he so deeply believed he was born to be. Van shrugged and lit another cigarette.

"Getting everything takes time," he said.

You nodded and leant back in the chair, feet up against the balcony wall. Van was right, getting everything takes time, but time changes things too. The Van you knew wore your clothes, indifferent about gender intent. His jeans never fit right and he owned the ugliest leather jacket ever to exist. His hair was rarely styled; it was cut every now and then by his cousin. The Van in front of you on a New York balcony was not at all like that. Crisp white button up. Tight jeans. Beautiful grey trench.

"What about you? Got a boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever?" Van asked. The question was a loaded one.

"Eh, kind of? I've been seeing this girl. Café opened up across the road from work. She makes the pastries and cakes and stuff. Been on a few dates,"

"…But?"

It annoyed you that even after all that time Van still knew you.

"But she's… I don't know. Nice. Maybe too nice for me, you know? Think I need someone that will fight back, or whatever… God, that sounds fucked up to say out loud,"

"Nah, it don't. It's true. You're a good person, Y/N, but you're not really… sweet. Never have been," he said.

With Van's implicit permission, you'd probably not take the girl that smelt like cookie dough out on another date. Fuck him, honestly.

You sat quietly, watching the lights of the city slowly flicker on. Soon, you'd be in a blanket of darkness, pin pricked with human life and lost connections. The sky was a hazy, cloudy mirror of the city below. The lights of Times Square reflected up into it, making it seem prettier than it was. It was getting dark, and both you and Van pulled your jackets around yourselves tighter.

"You got a show tonight?" you asked him. He nodded, not looking away from the city. "I should probably head off then." His head rolled lazily over to look at you. He shrugged.

"Only if you want.”


End file.
